What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger

The Medal.  I wore it all day yesterday (just kidding)

This has become my motto of late.  I really do believe it, even though I don't like it sometimes.  I kept this running through my head yesterday while I ran the Ogden Marathon.  I trained harder for it than I have for any of my other marathons because I wanted to qualify for Boston.  I've been feeling super strong and thought I was ready for the race of my life.  Well, it didn't happen.  The Ogden Marathon chewed me up and spit me out...again.  I've only taken over four hours on one other marathon, and it was the Ogden.  Apparently it is not the marathon for me.  Ogden Marathon two, Laura zero.  Point taken.  I admit defeat and officially declare that I won't be running the Ogden Marathon again.  So there.

What happened?  Well, I can only speculate but I do have my theories.  I know you're dying to hear.  First, the weather.  Oh the weather.  The week before the marathon they sent out an email saying it looked like it was going to be really hot for the race, so practice running in the heat.  Well, they were wrong.  Oh so wrong.  It wasn't hot, which if you have Spjute genes that's a good thing.  But it rained.  A lot.  The whole time.  I've never been so wet and cold in my entire life.  Ever.  In my whole thirty-five years.  For reals.  Have I made myself clear?  IT WAS COLD!!!  I could barely open my gels because my hands were so cold.  Props to the volunteers for helping even though it was dumping rain.  I was impressed.  My clothes were so wet I was probably carrying an extra five pounds of water.  I think every runner was probably in the early stages of hypothermia.  I started shivering on the way home and didn't stop until I climbed in the tub.  So cold.

I would love to blame my awful performance solely on the weather, which is out of my control.  But if I'm really being honest I have to admit that I hold some blame.  Let's put it out there that sometimes you just have a bad race.  No matter what you do, how ready you are, sometimes it just happens.  But in analyzing and trying to learn from the race so that something good might possibly come, this is what I've decided.  I went out too fast.  I know, millions of runners say this.  I know this can be a problem, so I was watching my pace.  But in hindsight (20/20 I know) I think I should have held back even more.  Miles 8-15 have quite a few hills.  I should have gone a lot slower and tried to make up the difference on the downhill in the canyon.  And that's all I have to say about that.  What's done is done, whether I like it or not (and I don't).

So there you go, my awesome race in a nutshell.  When did I finish?  A spectacular 4:08.  I know, I know.  Just running a marathon is an accomplishment.  And I'm happy I finished.  But I've finished marathons before.  This time I wanted to finish fast (well, fast for me).  It just wasn't to be.  Wasn't in the stars.  A bad race.  An off day.  Crappy weather.  Any excuse that takes the blame off of me is acceptable really.  In the midst of my pain yesterday (because it was painful) I vowed to never run again.  Really.  I've never thought that before, that's how much pain I was in.  Now, in the light of a new day, I think, "Am I a quitter?"  "No!"  "Am I going to give up on Boston?"  "No!"  So that's why I'm already planning my next marathon in September.  The Big Cottonwood Marathon.  Its pretty much all downhill, so I've at least learned my lesson there.  I'm sure you're wondering why in the world I would put myself through this pain again.  I can't explain it, but if you've done marathons or anything like it you understand.  There's just something about crossing the finish line of a marathon.  Agonizing and wonderful all at the same time.  And I just can't stand to stop marathoning on such a bad note.  Unacceptable really.  So I guess I'll give it a shot again.  Boston or bust right?

PS - I have not a single picture of myself running yesterday.  And I am totally happy with that.  Thrilled really.  I'm sure I looked even worse than a wet dog.  Ugh.  On a side note...Jake said there were some girls who crossed the finish line with mascara all over their faces.  Really?  You wake up at o-dark-hundred to put makeup on?  Before a marathon?  Well, (and I say this with all the love in my heart) you deserve to finish with mascara all over your face.  Seriously.  If any of you are offended by this, just remember that Jake seeing these mascara-covered girls means they finished before me.  Maybe that was my problem...no makeup.